


All That Matters

by FearNoEvil



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Canon - Anime Dub, F/M, Fluff, Funny Bunny, Hiding in Closets, Only Sad in Retrospect, Pre-Series, Romance, Wedding Planning, rich people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 13:12:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8209759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FearNoEvil/pseuds/FearNoEvil
Summary: Pegasus probably enjoys wedding planning better than most men, but his dear bride seems to be losing patience with it, so he devises a scheme to give her a break.





	

Maximillion Pegasus knew exactly who he was, and it was with no shame that he would express how thoroughly he enjoyed planning his wedding.  Once at his bachelor party, some strung-out son of his father’s business partner, tipsy on wine spritzers and nerves, had described to Pegasus the experience of planning his wedding as ‘months of hellish agony’, but when his turn came, he swore he had never had such fun. It was his joy in life, planning events and making them beautiful, making them shine and showing them off for the world to see. He was nothing if not a showman: the presentation and artistry of putting on a great show came naturally to him not only from his aristocratic background, but also purely from his soul – the soul of an artist, a creator of beauty.  And this show, _this_ event would be the most beautiful of them all, because at its center the single most beautiful thing in all the world: his darling Cecelia, and the love that he shared with her.

Cecelia herself, however, seemed to be a different story.  She played the society game, and played it excellently well, but she wasn’t a showman: her heart was too free, too genuine, to be drawn to that confusing, manipulative, shallow, money-grubbing, power-mad indoor world.  She would much rather be among the quietude of nature.  And as the décor planner and presenter, Olivette, was guiding them over to their fifteenth option for place settings – white roses on this one, for new beginnings – Pegasus saw Cecelia’s fist clench, though she continued to smile obligingly and nod throughout his explanation.  Now _he_ could do this all day, but _she_ was losing patience – and that was all that mattered.

Pegasus rounded the table and took her hand.  “Very lovely, Olivette,” he said winningly, “Is this the last of them?”

“No, sir,” said Olivette with a bow, “There’s twelve more samples in the dining room, as well as your cake selections!”

Cecelia said nothing, indeed she barely moved, but Pegasus could tell from the grip on his hand that she wanted to scream.  He squeezed her hand and then gave her a roguish wink.  “Lead the way, then!” he said enthusiastically.

Olivette bowed again, holding her square glasses in place, bracing her clipboard to her chest, and bustled off with purpose down the long, portrait-lined hallways to the mansion’s dining room.  Pegasus gave her a long head start before taking Cecelia’s elbow and escorting her daintily after Olivette’s vanishing back.  By the time they had glided across the expanse of the magnificent ballroom and reached the hallway, Olivette was almost to the other end.  He waved at her once when she looked back, but the moment she was out of sight, he took Cecelia’s hand and dashed instantly toward a section of the wall where a large tapestry strewn with knights and ladies and magnificent horses hung.  He lifted the side of it with one hand to reveal a door behind it, and quickly led Cecelia through the door, and closed it behind them.

They were momentarily thrust into total darkness, but Pegasus found the switch behind him by instinct and the little room came into sharp relief.  “What is this place?” Cecelia asked in wonder.  It was not a very large space, comparatively speaking.  Among the grandness of the rest of this house, it was only a closet.  But since it was a closet in this house, it was roomier than a closet had any right to be.

Only three little coats hung in it, coats that might have fit a ten-year-old.  On the ground were a couple of beanbags and blankets carelessly strewn about.  “This, my dear,” said Pegasus, grandly and nostalgically, “was where I would always go to hide.  If boring people came to call or we had to discuss budget or anything so deeply dreary and tedious!”

Cecelia smiled teasingly.  “Even you, Maximillion Pegasus?  Even _you_ got sick of it sometimes?”

“Even I,” Pegasus confirmed, inclining his head in a mock bow of assent.  Then he moved forward and took her hands again.  “You must forgive me, my dear,” he said, “I didn’t know how long this would take, or how endlessly tedious it would be for you.”

“It was making _you_ happy,” Cecelia returned, beaming.  “And don’t mistake, my dear – I do very much look forward to our wedding-day, but –”

“But if you saw one more place-setting, you were going to scream,” Pegasus finished, nodding and tenderly running his hands through her soft hair.  “I quite understand. Sunday we’ll take the yacht to the island, my dear, and we’ll not see another soul all day, I promise.  Just the two of us and nature.  Perhaps I’ll paint you again.”

“You make a girl vain, to paint her so much!” Cecelia breathed, inching closer.  Their lips met, and together they gently sunk down upon the bean bags in secret, stolen bliss.  Lying side by side a moment later, tangled together in each other’s arms and hair, Cecelia asked idly, “Do you suppose Olivette is getting worried?”

“Olivette is getting paid by the hour,” Pegasus told her. “I’m sure she relishes this chance to charge me thousands while doing nothing.”

Cecelia giggled – her laugh was like no other sound – and toyed idly with Pegasus’s engagement ring.  “I don’t mean to cost you thousands, my love!”

“Your comfort, my love, is all that matters.  For you, Cecelia,” he returned, bringing her hands up to his lips, “I spare no expense!”

“What a lucky girl I am!”  She had turned fully on her side, and with her hand she smoothed his long silver hair out of his eyes, and for a long, unbearably blissful moment, she held his gaze, her round blue eyes searching, penetrating through his own two brown ones, gleaming with mischief.  If eyes were windows to the soul, thought Pegasus, then in that moment he was seeing hers – alive, strong, and joyful in its uncomplicated love.

“When you were a child,” she asked softly after another moment, “what did you do in here when you hid?”

“Ah,” said Pegasus, sitting up and pulling her, too, into a sitting position, “well, my dear, after a few incidents of hiding with nothing to do, I began to stock it to be prepared.  So this is where I kept my secret stash.”

“Oooh, stash of what?” Cecelia asked, delighted by the innocent secrecy of it.  Pegasus, grinning broadly, held up a finger and stood, reaching behind another beanbag, digging a moment.  When he turned around, he was holding a tall stack of _Funny Bunny_ comics.

Cecelia laughed in delight again.  “But of course!”  She gestured for him to sit again, leaning in her arms. “Do show me,” she entreated him, “for I’m not very familiar.”

“Oh,” said Pegasus, blushing for the first time, “well, they’re terribly childish, my dear – I don’t know if you would . . . really care for . . .”

“It makes _you_ happy,” Cecelia repeated, planting a kiss on his forehead and settling down lower beside him, “And that’s all that matters!  Now – read!”

Thanking his lucky stars for the thousandth time that such a gem of woman had ever looked twice at him, and that very soon she would be truly his for the rest of his life, Pegasus returned her smile tenderly and hastened to obey.

When at long last they rejoined Olivette in the dining room, hand in hand, both blushing, and grinning conspiratorially at each other like they’d gotten away with something scandalous, she merely looked up from her clipboard in mild surprise.  She didn’t look very upset.

“Mr. Pegasus, Miss Cecelia!” she exclaimed, standing up from where she’d been sitting against the wall to wait.  Pegasus saw a doodle of a couple of downy birds that hadn’t been there on her clipboard before.  “There you are! I didn’t know where you’d gone!”

“We just got a bit lost, Olivette, dear,” Pegasus returned, turning up the eccentric-and-scatterbrained-billionaire act to its highest setting.

“A bit lost?” she wondered.  “In – your own mansion?”

“Well, my dear,” he returned, “it _is_ a very big place!”

**Author's Note:**

> This may be the most disgustingly fluffy thing I've ever written. I really never thought I'd write fic this fluffy about Pegasus, a former villain, but here we are. It was quite fun!
> 
> Let me know any comments or concerns, either here or at my tumblr, windmilltothestars!
> 
> Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed! :)


End file.
